Caged Bird and Flightless Butterfly
by 0ko
Summary: Tamaki is the famous Oiran from Edo's red light district, Teiko, and her apprentice, Setsuna, is soon to become an oiran. Outside the walls of the red light district, beyond the world of prostitutes, a power struggle arises between the imperial court and the bakufu. When rumors of war rages between these two forces, even the red light district is no longer a safe place to hide.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I decided that it would be best to clarify some terms beforehand.

*Oiran: a high-class prostitute. (They are not the same thing as a Geisha)

*Datehyogo: the traditional hairstyle Oiran's wear

*Kamuro: servant child

*Kagemajaya: male prostitution house

* * *

Chapter 1: Tamaki, the Oiran

* * *

Rain patters onto the soil. One drop sends waves of ripples throughout the muddy puddles. A child lies on the ground with its ear pressed to the floor, listening to the beat of the rain. Its eyes are fixed onto a dirty puddle.

Red lashes lower to a close. The lights up from the second to the third floors of Edo's shops and homes are no longer visible.

The rain beats the earth even harder now as it gushes down from thick dark clouds. The tiny body curls up, trying to garner warmth on this lonely evening. Its thin arms reach up to shield its head from the rain.

A couple runs by, both of them holding an umbrella together. The puddle they dash through splashes and soaks the trembling child wet, as if it wasn't even drenched enough already. Not once do they even bother to look at the thing lying on the ground. For all they know, it's probably already dead. Someone will eventually toss the body away or skin it down to its bones and grind it up into medicine.

Those red lashes pry open again and the child rolls flat onto its back. Murky and grim is the unforgiving sky. It shuts its eyes, surrendering completely, and waits for the end.

Footsteps approach. They're soft and delicate, not rushed at all.

"That is the best death pose I've seen so far. A wise man faces his death. A foolish man turns his back to death and runs away. In the end, the foolish man dies shocked that death caught him."

The child does not stir and the rain continuously pounds on its body.

"But you are yet to be a man. You're just a child."

Eyes flash open. The child sits upright, spotting a woman with blue hair ornately styled into a datehyogo standing in front of him. Gold ornaments decorate her hair. She shifts the papery red umbrella to her other hand and extends a hand to the child.

"This world is cruel. You must fight to live. And to do that, you need status."

Her milky-white hand brushes over damp red locks. She curls the red tips around a slender finger. "I could not bear to see such a beauty go to waste. I could use a girl like you. Come with me and you will live."

She retracts her hand, standing upright with all the grace in the world. There is no welcoming smile on her face. The only look on her face dwells within those clear blue eyes. It is a look of confidence.

The child staggers onto its feet, knees wobbling from the endless hours of sitting in the rain. Red hair tumbles to its fullest length, down to the shoulders. It croaks out, "What would an Oiran like you want from a nobody like me?"

"All I want is your service. In return, you will have a place to go to. You will have a home."

Home. _Home?_

Seeing that pondering look on the child's face, the Oiran reassures, "Yes. Your home will be my home."

Round eyes squint to get a better look at the pretty stranger. Mud sticks to the side of its face. "You've mistaken me for a girl, Oiran."

She flashes him a knowing smile. "I don't see a boy…unless you'd like to show me the boy."

Suddenly, a rush of heat shoots up to his face. He becomes flustered but also confused and curious. Tearing his eyes away from the Oiran, he mutters with embarrassment, "You're really weird, Oiran."

"You know, I do have a na-"

"Tamaki-san!" a worried voice interrupts. "Tamaki-san! Where are you?"

The woman sighs, glancing down the street. "It appears my time has come. Make your choice, little girl."

The boy grumbles under his breath. "I'm not a little girl."

Rushed footsteps hurry in their direction. Tamaki, the Oiran, smiles expectantly as the rain drops tick by. A newfound pressure weighs on the child's shoulders. After years of traveling alone in this cruel world, he knows when a chance has come. This is an opportunity- nonetheless, an odd one.

"Ah! Tamaki-san, there you are!" a servant calls out with relief.

Tamaki turns to leave, saying quietly without a glance in his direction, "If you wish to serve me, follow me. If not, you are on your own."

"Tamaki-san," the servant pants, skidding to a stop. "Please don't leave without telling us. You know Sanada-san will get worried."

"I apologize. Something caught my eye and I got carried away."

The servant rubs the back of her neck, inwardly surprised. Even the beautiful Tamaki gets absorbed in sightseeing.

As they walk down the street, the servant frowns. She glances at Tamaki and casts a look over her shoulder. After a bite on her bottom lip and the twiddling of her fingers, she finally whispers, "Tamaki-san, I think we're being followed."

Calm and collected is Tamaki. The sleeves of her kimono are connected, hands linked together underneath. She stops, causing the rest of her followers to stop as well. There are several servants holding the ends of her kimono, making sure that it never once touches the dirty floor. Other servants carry umbrellas to shield the kimono.

The servant whispers to her again, "Perhaps I should scare it off?"

Tamaki shakes her head, unfurls her hand out from the sleeves and beckons the child to her. "She is not an 'it' anymore. I've decided to take her under my wing. Everyone, this is your new sister, Setsuna."

The servants are just as startled as Setsuna.

"W-when did Onee-sama pick another one?" one of the servants asks.

"Not that long ago. Now, come along, let us go back to the brothel. It is not befitting to talk in the rain."

0-0-0

Sanada Naoto stands on the third floor of his brothel, peering out the window with a content smile on his face. Down below, in the crowded streets, are two of his most treasurable goods: Tamaki, Edo's famous Oiran from the red light district, Teiko, and her apprentice.

The brothel owner observes the two of them carefully. Tamaki is dressed in a fancy kimono and her silky blue hair is styled into a datehyogo. Her hair takes the shape of a butterfly. The wings of her hairdo glitters as sunlight beams onto those gold ornaments sticking out.

Traveling behind the Oiran is an apprentice by the name of Setsuna.

Sanada leans against the window, thinking that if he had denied Tamaki's request to bring the child into the brothel, he would've never raked in so much customers. Although Setsuna couldn't take customers, people dropped by to get a look at her. Who would have thought that eight years ago this dazzling young woman was a muddy kid lying in the filthy streets of Edo?

Setsuna's red locks are also styled into an elaborate look. However, her hairdo doesn't outshine Tamaki's. She remains silent as Tamaki and the servants walk back to the brothel. When they arrive at the entrance, Sanada stands there with a congratulating smile. "Welcome back. How was the parade?"

"It was pleasant," Tamaki says, entering first.

Setsuna merely stands in front of the entrance, watching her senior disappear down the hallway. Sanada notices how fixed those red eyes are. They don't blink until Tamaki is completely out of sight.

He holds a hand out. "Come inside, Setsuna. The sun will burn your skin at this rate."

She finally blinks, snapping out of her daze, and enters. They stroll through the hallways, side by side, until Sanada casually says, "Two months from now, we'll be holding your ceremony, Setsuna. You'll finally become an oiran."

He laughs freely. "Gosh, eight years have passed by so fast. The customers always ask me to quicken your ceremony."

"Patience is a virtue," Setsuna simply says and Sanada nods at that.

"Yes, a virtue and an art. Not everyone possesses patience." He stares at the sixteen year old from the corners of his eyes. Her face is flawless, there's not a blemish on that fair skin. Long red lashes shield her crimson eyes. Though her lips are light pale pink, they form a solid line.

"Now, now, what's with the face?" Sanada asks, somewhat concerned. Even he too feared this day. "You're not excited to become an oiran?"

He glances at her hands, only to find them hidden inside the sleeves of her kimono. Could they possibly be clenched into fists right now? Or were they loose and relaxed?

Setsuna gazes at the garden courtyard they pass by. The Kamuros toil in the little flowerbeds, tainting their nails with soil. Her gaze sweeps back over to the older man as she says, "I do not fear becoming an oiran, Sanada-san."

He glances around, checking to see if there are any stray workers around, before he replies. "Tamaki and I fear that your secret will come to light, Setsuna."

If there was one thing Setsuna learned throughout her stay at the brothel, she learned that one must take pride in their work, no matter how bad it is deemed. "I will proudly become an oiran."

Sanada sighs, waving a hand. "Yes, yes, I know that, Setsuna. But when you become a full-fledged oiran and a customer makes it to the third stage, your secret is in much more danger."

Setsuna's back is straight. Her head is poised, chin leveled, and eyes unfaltering. "I understand, but as an oiran, I have the decision of whom I will interact with."

Suddenly, one of the shoji doors slides open with a slight rattling sound. Standing under the threshold is none other than Tamaki. She tilts her head, assessing her apprentice who does not budge.

Sanada sighs. "I thought I sensed something between you two. You may be radiant flowers to the public eye, but I am no fool. As of now, you two are like coiled snakes preparing to lunge at each other. Hissing and-"

Tamaki holds a hand up. There's a cool glaze to her stare. "Sanada-san, I respect you, but please save the descriptions for a later time. There are more pressing matters at hand here."

She stalks right over to Setsuna, who towers a few centimeters taller, and grips that angular chin. Firmly, she lowers Setsuna's face so their eyes are locked on one another's. Tamaki steely reminds, "Setsuna, you are right to say that oirans have the decision to choose who they interact with, but you are naïve."

The apprentice's bangs shade her eyes, making her bright red eyes drop a tone darker. Her eyes narrow, scrutinizing. She speaks with her eyes but doesn't dare to verbally challenge her senior.

Tamaki breaks out a cruel smile. "You wish to leave the brothel, Setsuna, but in able for you to do so, you must find yourself a rich customer who will pledge his allegiance to you. But how can you do that when you're so stingy and picky? Men would flee in disgust if they knew your true nature."

A slapping sound echoes. Tamaki's hand falls back to her side, limp. Setsuna steps back with her levitated hand. Her eyes are slightly wide, pupils dilating at the realization of how complicated this web is. And then, she walks off.

Tamaki smiles coldly, but the stinging pain reverberates in her hand.

Sanada sighs again and rubs his temple. Although Setsuna's presence in the brothel surely raked in customers and would definitely bring in more when she became an oiran, her existence as an oiran could bring the entire brothel to crumbles. He feared the day when a man discovered her true gender. Public shaming would fall upon Setsuna and perhaps her death would be by the hands of those who once adored her.

He couldn't help but worry for his own safety. He'd be branded as guilty because he was associated. It wasn't like he never thought this could happen, he knew it could happen. That was why he was so hesitant when Tamaki came back to the brothel on a rainy night with a muddy child beside her. When she disclosed the child's gender to him, he automatically told her that he would personally and safely ship the boy off to the Kagemajaya. But all Tamaki did was shake her head fervidly and request that the boy be disguised as a female.

Sanada frowns. He could still remember the reason why he gave into her. She said, "Sanada-san, look at me. I, too, am a male, but I am also Teiko's successful oiran. I promise you I will keep his secret safe."

After accepting her request, all he did was toss and turn in bed all night long. No matter how successful she was, he should have never let her have her way. Any rational person would have rejected her. A reasonable being would have weighed the future of his business and held it far more valuable than some street kid. But he didn't. He didn't deny Tamaki because, for once, she was actually charged up about something. In those usually blank eyes, there was a light- dim at first, but as time progressed, it became more visible. She smiled more often, even if it was shared with only a few. If closely looked at, one could detect the joy in her simple, everyday movements. Sanada would know, especially after all the years he spent watching her grow into the oiran she was today.

He shakes his head, clearing his mind of the past, and leans on the wall, resting his eyes upon Tamaki who has not moved at all. "What are you going to do now? He seems very set on becoming an oiran."

"I will respect his wishes."

Sanada rubs his eyes tiredly. "I really don't understand why you're so attached to him."

Tamaki places her hand on the shoji door, a distant smile on her lips. "Fate has given me one more chance and I will not fail again. Kagami-san will be arriving shortly. I must get ready. Have one of the girls see him to the room, will you, Sanada-san?"

Sanada scratches his head. "This one's awfully fond of you, Tamaki. To think he's already nearing the third stage, do you think he'll pledge his allegiance to you?"

She shrugs. "Depends. He has to have the money first."

The door slides shut and Sanada walks away, wondering how this man is capable of hiding his gender for so long.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N:

*Kanzashi: japanese hair ornaments

* * *

Chapter 2: Who Am I?

* * *

Setsuna begrudgingly stares at the tea tray in her hands. How in the world did this happen? Why did she have to bring tea to the room where Tamaki resided? Weren't the servant girls supposed to do this?

She signals her arrival with a knock on the door. Tamaki's clear voice permeates through the shoji door. "You may enter."

Setsuna sits there for a few seconds, feeling the blood beginning to boil in her veins again. She had really hoped not to see Tamaki's face, especially after their dispute earlier today, but that was an ignorant thought of hers. Of course she could never escape from Tamaki. After all, she was her senior.

The apprentice slides the door open and picks up the tray. She keeps her eyes glued on the floor, making sure not to trip. If she doesn't have to look at Tamaki, she won't. She sets the tea tray just a bit to Tamaki's left side and bows her head, signaling her retreat now. Before she could even turn, the oiran deftly grasps her wrist and covers it with a neatly folded handkerchief.

Setsuna breaks her self-oath and stares at Tamaki, perplexed and surprised. All of her upset feelings dissipate at the sight of a caring smile on her senior's beautiful face. Why does she look so concerned?

"Make sure you treat your wrist, Setsuna." Those blue orbs glance downward at the light pink mark.

Setsuna blinks as embarrassment slowly washes over her. When did she burn herself? She didn't even notice this herself! When did Tamaki notice this? For some reason, she wants to bolt out of the room right now, but the moment she locks eye contact with Tamaki again, she is frozen in place. Edo's magnificent Tamaki is no ordinary woman. She is cultured and dignified to the fullest that she can be.

Fear strikes Setsuna as she realizes the gap between them.

Tamaki loosely ties the cloth around her protégé's wrist, never looking away. "You may leave now, Setsuna. Go put some ointment on the burn."

Tamaki slightly tilts her head and the way she smiles, her eyes shutting in a taunting manner, triggers a reaction from the younger woman. Setsuna snaps out of her thoughts, instantly recognizing the patronizing way her senior treats her, as if she's still a child. She gracefully pulls her hand away from Tamaki, resisting the urge to rip it away because that would only make her less than Tamaki.

"Please excuse me then." She bows her head and exits.

Tamaki listens to the soft thud of the door. Her hands are placed on her laps and she turns to look at her client. A man lies on his side with his chin propped on a palm. "Your apprentice didn't even greet me. She practically ignored me."

Tamaki pours them some tea.

"And now you're ignoring me."

Kagami rolls closer to the oiran, peering up at her with a probing stare. Tamaki offers him some tea but all he does is push the tea tray away and place his head on her lap, flashing her a cheeky grin. His large fingers reach into her hair and he pulls the ornaments out from her locks one by one. The moment her hair loses its shape and cascades down her back and over her shoulders, she gives him an annoyed look.

Kagami weaves his fingers through her long blue hair, laughing. That is until a death grip crushes his fingers. He yelps painfully and Tamaki lets go, shoving Kagami off her lap. His head hits the floor with a thump.

"Kagami-kun, don't overdo yourself."

He sits up with one eye clenched shut as he rubs his throbbing head. "I was wondering how far you'd let me go, Kuroko."

Kuroko stares out the window, watching the crows fly into the sunny sky. A sigh falls from his lips and he reaches for his ornaments, preparing to fix his hair.

"A pretty _lady_ like you shouldn't be sighing so much, Kuroko," Kagami teases.

"Should I stab you with this Kagami-kun?" Kuroko threatens, holding the pointy end of his kanzashi up in the air.

The larger male shakes his head and sits obediently as Kuroko redoes his hair. What a pain it must be, Kagami thinks, to wake up every morning and pretend to be a female, a prostitute at that too. It's a wonder how Kuroko's survived this far.

Kagami positions himself by the window and scouts the streets below. His oddly shaped brows knot together at the center and a scowl mars his face. "You know, Kuroko, lately there's been a lot of killing in the other red light districts."

"Hmm" is all Kuroko says.

"Be careful."

"I'll be careful."

"I'm serious, Kuroko! You better watch your back and what are you going to do about that kid?" Kagami huffs. "I hope you taught him some self defense. I wouldn't want you dying because some brat couldn't save himself."

Kuroko flashes Kagami a deadly look. "Sei-sama is not a brat. Naïve and stubborn, yes, he is, but a brat? No, he is not."

Kagami holds both hands up in the air. "Okay, okay. Calm down. I didn't mean it."

Kuroko adjusts his kimono. "Where are those red light districts?"

"In the west but now the attacks are slowly coming to the east, that's all I gathered for now. I'm sure Edo's one of the destinations along the way. You know with it being the 'nightless city' and all that stuff."

"I suppose so," Kuroko murmurs.

"Which is why I was telling you to be safe. You're a big name in Edo's red light district, so watch out!"

Kuroko touches the decorations in his hair softly. "I won't die here, Kagami-kun. It's much too early to die now."

"Mah. Whatever." Kagami exhales heavily and saunters over to the door. "I'll be in town for a while. Oh and make up with your apprentice already."

"There's nothing going on between us, Kagami-kun."

"Yeah sure." Kagami makes kissy sounds, earning a dark look from Kuroko, who says in his pleasing oiran voice, "Kagami-san, would you like some scalding, hot tea on your face?"

Kagami takes the game another route. "Oh, Tamaki, I just love being with you. Let's get married one day." He winks. Kuroko reaches for the pin in his hair and that's all it takes for the red head to dash out the door wildly.

-0-0-0-

Later on in the evening, Tamaki stops by Setsuna's room. She knocks and opens the door before Setsuna can even respond.

"Good evening," Tamaki greets, stepping inside the room.

Setsuna stares at her with narrowed eyes. "I didn't say you could enter."

"Do I need your permission to enter? I am your senior."

The soon-to-be oiran looks away, muttering bitterly under her breath, "Such an overly caring one too."

Tamaki strolls over with a smile playing on her lips. She sits behind Setsuna, whose hair is also fully down. "Shall I comb your hair tonight?"

"There's no need to. I already did it myself, if you couldn't tell." Setsuna stiffens at the fingers touching her, or rather, _his_ hair. He sighs, reaching his hands back to grab his hair and remove it from Tamaki's hold, but her soft hands latch onto his. "What is it now, Tamaki-san?"

Setsuna's just about to turn around and stare his senior down, but Tamaki orders, "Don't turn around."

Setsuna obeys hesitantly, wondering what this odd woman is up to. They sit in silence as Tamaki plays with those crimson strands. And then, after a while, she says, sounding reflective, "I remember when your hair was up to your shoulders. Now it's so long."

Setsuna sets his chin on his knees, gripping his ankles. He rocks back and forth in a tiny motion. His voice is deeper now, no longer finding the need to mask itself with a feminine softness. "It was shorter before I met you. I couldn't cut it at the time so I let it grow."

Tamaki pats his head, stroking the red crown. She mesmerizingly mutters to herself, "Such red hair like royalty."

Setsuna arches his brows at that dreamy statement, but he doesn't further inquire. "Don't tell me you're jealous of my hair."

"Of course not. I would never be jealous of your hair. It is a part of you. I cherish that."

"You sound so sappy, Tamaki-san." Setsuna finds himself even more confused. One minute, she's condescending. The next minute, she's overflowing with care and love. Just what was going on with his senior?

"Tamaki-san, I ha-"

"Call me Tamaki like you used to, Setsuna."

The gentle yearning in her voice is evident and he detects it as well. He turns around to assess her, feeling irked and confused. "Tamaki-san. Why are you behaving like this? Stop treating me like a child. I'm not the kid you've been looking after. I am your protégé. I am to be an oiran. We'll be working in the same field in two months time."

The red strands slip out from Tamaki's fingers. All she does is sit and listen to him tell her off.

Setsuna grows even more irritated at her reaction. She is not fazed. She doesn't say anything, doesn't even make any move to object her. Thinking that he might as well as make the most of this opportunity, he powers on. "I understand you don't want me to become an oiran because you think someone will discover my gender, but I will disregard all of that. I must become one. You can call me naïve all you want but I will gain the loyalty of a rich man, Tamaki-san."

The evening wind breathes into the room, blowing right in between Setsuna and Tamaki- a physical barrier, but one that is easily breached.

Tamaki straightens her sitting form and although she is shorter than Setsuna, she oozes an elite aura. Her stare is superior, creating a twinge of inferiority from within Setsuna who does her best to brush it off. An understanding smile forms on her face. "Let's hear each other out then, Setsuna."

Setsuna's eyes widen fractionally. "That's it? You're just going to listen to me and then let me proceed as I wish?"

Tamaki nods, folding her hands onto her lap. "I'll hear you out and you'll hear me out. We both accept each other's reasons and move on. Starting tomorrow, I'll treat you as a fellow oiran."

Even now, Tamaki still speaks with authority. "Settle down. We can talk about this without getting riled up. You may proceed with your explanation, Setsuna."

He sits down, a sour taste growing in his mouth. He doesn't like the fact that she's directing him, but tomorrow will be different. Even though he is yet to be an official oiran, tomorrow he will be treated as an equal by Tamaki or so that is what he thinks.

He mirrors Tamaki's prim and proper position before explaining. "As you know, Tamaki-san, I intend on finding my parents."

She nods. "That is why you wish to leave the brothel."

"Yes. To do that, I need to gain the allegiance of a rich man."

Tamaki's face is expressionless, but her eyes convey a look of pity. "Setsuna, you understand that a man who pledges his allegiance to you is expected to be loyal to only you. In return, it is only polite and proper that you would do so as well, meaning you are expected to stay by his side. You are willing to shame yourself by breaking the traditional and honorable promise that oirans uphold just to find your parents?"

Setsuna nods, his resolve unwavering. "Before I am an oiran or a woman or a man, I am a human. I only care for myself. I only chase after my own desires. This world is cruel. Tamaki-san, you once told me that one needs status to survive in this world and after eight years, I am finally going to obtain this power."

"You do understand that you could, no, you will be killed for doing such a dishonorable thing? Of course, that is if they capture you."

Setsuna nods again.

Seeing that he doesn't even blink because he is so focused on his goal, Tamaki counters. "Then, have you ever thought about the rest of us?"

Setsuna shuts his eyes. Guilt slowly eats him up from the inside and the corners of Tamaki's lips quirk up. "So you have thought about the consequences of your actions. Don't be surprised if this place is ransacked and burnt to crisps once you leave. Expect some of our decapitated heads placed on spiked poles. Even the name Oiran will lose its high status. We'll become the same as those third-rate whores by the riverbank."

Tamaki walks over to the window, the tail of her kimono swishing after her. One hand is placed on the wooden windowsill, the other on the rough textured wall. As she stares out, not down at the streets, but up at the night sky, she adds, "In exchange for your future, you will be sacrificing others. This is how the world operates. You cannot take and take and expect that nothing bad will happen."

She slowly spins around only to find Setsuna with his eyes still shut. "Does it trouble you, what I have said? If you truly want something, you run with your eyes open. You do not run with closed eyes. If you run in such a manner, you will miss both the good and bad things. You'll miss out on the things that should pain you and the things you should take strength and grow from. So why shut your eyes now? Are you not ready? You are sc-"

"I am not scared." Red eyes widen, desperate. Lost. Torn. Struggling.

Tamaki sends him an apologetic look. "It appears I have shaken you. As your senior, I thought it would be best if I lent you a new perspective. Perhaps I should take my leave for the night."

She takes one step away from the window as he grinds his fist into the floor roughly. "Don't you dare run away. You haven't given me your reason yet. I will hear you out."

Tamaki ceases all her movements. Excitement bubbles up within her, but she keeps collected. "What do you mean? I've given you my reason, Setsuna."

His head snaps up to glare at her. "Don't mistaken me as a wholly naïve person, Tamaki-san. I am capable of noticing things as well. Your changing attitudes, it's almost as if you're bipolar, but never mind that. I want to know your true reasons. Why are you so against me?"

Tamaki leans back against the wall, a lone finger tracing over the edge of the windowsill. That apprentice was treading on very thin ice right now. He stands up, suddenly empowered, and closes the distance between them. With a tug, the thin curtains swish shut. He cages Tamaki between his body and the wall. There's a tiny gap between the two. "You thought you could use your position as an oiran to persuade me, Tamaki-san."

Tamaki stares up. "Indeed I did use it and for a second there, I thought you had really crumbled. Honestly, I was disappointed but you've washed that sentiment away now."

Setsuna narrows his eyes. His hot breath caresses her smooth cheek. He's never been so close to Tamaki, so close that he can make out every single one of her thick blue lashes. He says, "As a fellow oiran, I understand that we are to mask our feelings. We become and are only oiran. All personal feelings becomes devoid. Of course you would use oiran standings on me but that's where your fault lies. You've underestimated me."

By now, Tamaki's head is lowered and her eyes are fixed on the floor.

A feeling of triumph overcomes Setsuna, but it is only fleeting triumph because as soon as he hears the amused chuckle escape from Tamaki's lips, he is immediately on guard again. She gradually, sumptuously lifts her head and stares at him through her lashes. The way her head is angled and the form of her slightly parted, rosy-pink lips are seductively erotic.

"Isn't it obvious, Setsuna? My reason, that is." Her hand snakes up his arm and rests on his shoulder.

He blinks. A pleased sigh falls from her lips as she leans closer. "Do you want to know why I bestowed the name 'Setsuna' upon you?"

He freezes, captivated by the beauty in front of him. Her tongue wets her lips, glistening from the dim lights. "Setsuna means 'a moment, an instant'. That rainy night, a little filthy boy entranced me. All it took was one look, one moment, and I instantly wanted you."

Her blue lashes flutters. He swallows a thick lump, dumbfounded by this sudden confession. It's plausible, he thinks to himself. This could be the reason why she's so strongly against him becoming an oiran.

Tamaki wraps her arms around his neck. "The thought of someone selling you into prostitution, the image of a man touching you all over made me want to puke, and so I pulled you into my web."

Setsuna is silent, absorbing all of this information. And when it sinks, he pulls away from the oiran, sneering hatefully, "You're just like those whores. You only brought me in for your own pleasure. You turned me into your personal eye candy."

Tamaki bites a finger. "Oh Setsuna, relax. If it weren't for me, you'd be sucking penises right now."

Setsuna burns with rage. His clothed biceps contract. His hands curls into tightly balled up fists. "I am going to leave this place and you can't stop me."

Tamaki laughs, indifferent to all of this. "As I promised, tomorrow and onwards, I will treat you as an official oiran even though you are yet to be one. We will move on with our lives now that we've heard each other's reasons. But know this, Setsuna, I am the one who turned you into the butterfly you are today. I am the one who cleaned the mud off your wings and gave you a new identity. I am the one who will determine if you fly or not."

Her fingers brush the side of his jaw, sending shocking jolts throughout his body. Her voice is all but a soft whisper, yet in its own light, it is foreboding. "One moment you were a little boy, the next instant, you were a woman. Now, you come and clash against me as man. So who are you?"

Her forefinger traces his bottom lip. He can't make a single move to keep her away and she glides out the room. "Goodnight, my flightless butterfly."

A fist slams into the ground, scaring the servant girls on the floor below. Setsuna sinks to the floor as he strips himself bare. The kimono falls, shrouding around him. He strings his fingers through long red strands.

A shaky whisper. "Who am I?"

A blurry word comes to his mind: Sei.

Head collapsed into hands, he chants over and over his name, his past. "Sei. Sei. Sei…"


End file.
